


Old Friends and New Loves

by Momus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fake fiance, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Overwatch - Freeform, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momus/pseuds/Momus
Summary: McCree has just received a wedding invite to an old ex's wedding.  Just when he thinks he's buried the past, he must face it again, except when no one agrees to go as his date, he turns to the last possible option -- Hanzo Shimada.





	Old Friends and New Loves

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission piece! My first time writing an Overwatch piece, I hope I did it some justice :p  
> Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! Thank yoouuu

Today is one of McCree’s favourite days.  It’s Sunday, the appointed day of rest, a day with no responsibilities or expectations.  McCree sleeps in soundly, takes his time getting out of bed, and eventually makes his way to the common area of Overwatch headquarters after a decent shower.  There are a few people in the room besides him; D.VA and Lucio are on the couch, Zenyatta is chatting with Tracer about god-knows-what, and Symmetra is brewing up a fresh pot of coffee.

“My, my, darlin’, you read my mind.”  He says as he walks over to her and grabs his mug from the cupboard.

“There’s breakfast, too.  You can heat it up.”  She says with a smile.

“I think I’ll do just that.”  He says with a curt nod.

A couple minutes later he has a coffee in hand, a hot plate of breakfast in the other, and heads over to the local white table where Tracer and Zenyatta sit.  He’s just about to dig in when a familiar voice calls to him.

“Jesse, you received some mail.”

The sound of Moira’s voice almost ruins his meal.

“Mail?  On a Sunday?”  He asks with a raised brow.

“Don’t look at me funny.  It was probably hand-delivered or we wouldn’t have received it.”

When she nears the table she flicks the off-white envelope towards him and Tracer is immediately drawn from her conversation with Zenyatta to pry into McCree’s business.

“What'chu got there, love?  It looks like a letter!”  She says excitedly.  

McCree opens it, suspicion creeping up into his calloused fingers while they work the thick paper.  The card is simple, decorated with illustrious cursive writing and a white marble banner across the top and bottom; gold etchings of a date stand out and McCree realizes exactly what it is.

“Oh Lord, it’s–”

“A wedding invite!  Oh, I love weddings!”  Tracer finishes his sentence and beams at the card, snatching it from his hand to inspect the details.

McCree doesn’t mind; in fact, he doesn’t even notice anything else that’s happening around him because the name on the card has brought back so many memories, and not necessarily good ones.

It was over a decade ago before he had joined Blackwatch, during his gang days.  McCree was close with most of the gang, but not nearly as close as he was with PJ.  He and Pj went way back before either of them had even thought of a life of crime; what started as a decent friendship had quickly turned to something more, even if neither of them would admit it.  There was flirting, rough touching, and even rougher sex, but what McCree found most admiring was PJ’s way of adapting to any situation, no matter how bad it was.

There were so many times the gang had been cornered in some derelict building with the law enforcement bearing down on them from all angles, but PJ always found a way out.  He was a burly man with dark skin, near-black eyes, and the kindest smile you would never see anywhere else.  No matter how hard times were, PJ kept the crew going until…he couldn’t.

If there was one thing McCree regretted in his life, it was the pain and suffering he caused PJ.  After what he did, he couldn’t ever bring himself to face him again and their romance – their friendship – ended in the blink of an eye.

“Well?!  Are you gonna go?”  Tracer asked, knocking McCree from his trip down memory lane.

“Hell, I really don’t know.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, his elbows resting on the table while he eyed the invite that lay before him.

“Who do you know?  The bride or the groom?”

His breath hitched and he looked at the card one more time – sure enough, there was a woman’s name right below PJ’s.

“The groom.  We were good buddies back in the day, but I haven’t spoken ta'him in…well…”

“Aw, but he clearly wants you there.  He must miss you!  Maybe this is your chance to reconnect?”

Tracer was right, his name was printed clearly on the envelope, which meant PJ wanted him to be there.  Would it be awkward to attend?  But he was invited, so would not going be even worse?  He could always say he didn’t receive it, but then it arrived on a Sunday which meant it had to be hand-delivered, so he couldn’t possibly use that excuse.

“So?  Are you going?”

McCree looked up from the table to see not only Tracer’s eyes on him, but also Moira’s, Zenyatta’s, and even Lucio and D.VA had stopped their gaming to stare at him in question.

This was proving to be a much more stressful morning than he intended to wake up to.

“Agh I…I guess?”

Tracer clapped excitedly and everyone resumed their business as if they weren’t just silently pressuring McCree for an answer.  There was probably no harm in going and in all honesty, he was curious to see PJ again and reconnect, and find out how he managed to get his address.  But most importantly…

Who was he going to take with him?

* * *

For the rest of the day, McCree brooded over the upcoming events.  He couldn’t show up to PJ’s wedding alone; even though they were friends they were also lovers and to show up to an ex-lover’s wedding alone was just pathetic.  He needed a date that was worthy of bringing so he could show PJ he hadn’t been alone ever since leaving him.  Though he technically never dated anyone after PJ, but that wasn’t because of PJ, it was merely due to circumstances!  If he could just find a date before Saturday, he could attend the wedding, see PJ again, then leave before he got too drunk to keep his mouth shut.

Normally, the week dragged on slow, but it seemed Life felt the need to speed things up for McCree because before he knew it, it was already Thursday and he still hadn’t decided who to ask to the wedding.

“Tracer, love.  You’ve got to help me!” He begged one night while calling her.

“I’m sorry, Jesse!  Me and Emily already have plans and I can’t just break them!  Why not ask Moira?  You two are mates, yeah?”

McCree had thought about asking Moira, but the very aura that woman gave off made his nuts recoil inside his body.

“No ma'am, she ain’t an option.”

“Well then…have you asked Hanzo?”

“Why would I ask Hanzo?!”

“He’s a pretty reasonable guy if you talk to him!  Just explain the up n’ up and I’m sure he’ll agree.  Besides, he’d make for a pretty cute date to take to your ex’s wedding, don'tcha think?”

McCree rubbed his brows with his thumb and forefinger.  Hanzo was a handsome man, enough for a well-known lesbian to admit, but he was also so…stone-faced.  He couldn’t even imagine asking the guy to be his fake fiance while attending his ex’s wedding.  Surely the man would just laugh in his face, wouldn’t he?

“Anyway, I’ve got to go!  You might as well ask unless you’ve got another option hidden up your sleeve.  Bye!”

His phone screen lit up, signaling the end of the call and he hung up with a sigh.  He hated when Tracer was right.  He had already asked Widowmaker, Lucio, D.VA, and even Gabriel.  They all either laughed at him or downright refused; Hanzo was his only option left.  So, he put aside his pride and headed for the archer’s well-known hang-out spot where he often meditated with Zenyatta.  It was in the garden on the rooftop of the building and considering today was rather sunny, he was sure the man would be up there.

When he walked off the elevator, he was greeted by a gust of warm wind.  The sun shone brightly down upon the garden and the sound of a trickling waterway filled his ears along with the light chirping of birds.  From his spot, he looked across the rooftop to see Hanzo sitting cross-legged near the edge, perfectly serene and still like a statue.  McCree approached carefully; he knew Hanzo hated being interrupted during meditation, but this was an issue he could no longer afford to let sizzle.

“Hey there, Hanzo.”

He could see Hanzo’s shoulders drop.

“Cowboy.”  He replied.

“I know this isn’t the best time for you, but I…need a favour.”

“Hm.  Sit down with me.”

McCree inched towards the edge, leaning over just enough to peer down the dizzying height all the way to the ground.

“Y'know, I think I’m fine where I am.”

“ _Sit_  with me.”  Hanzo demanded.  McCree sighed realizing there was no way around it and slowly sat down on the edge, his legs dangling precariously.  He tried to ignore the taste of bile in his throat.

“Go on.”  Hanzo didn’t seem the least bit phased, even when another strong wind blew against them.

“A-as I was sayin’, I need a favour.  Y'see, my…old friend is having a weddin’ this weekend, but I only just received the invite.  I need someone to go with me.”

“That doesn’t seem so terrible.”

“Right!  So you will come along?”

“I would  _if_ that were the case, but there is more to it, isn’t there?  We don’t exactly get along so I highly doubt I was your first choice.”

“Ah…” McCree gritted his teeth to hold back the heat of embarrassment that threatened in his cheeks.  Hanzo always was one step ahead of him, it seemed.

“This isn’t just any wedding.  It’s…my ex’s.  An’ I don’t need just any date.  I…I need someone who is willin’ to act as my fiance.”

McCree had never felt so uncomfortable before.  He peeked over at Hanzo hesitantly out of the corner of his eye; Hanzo hadn’t changed.  His expression was as serious as ever, but then…the corners of his mouth trembled, his lips went taught, then an amused smile seemed to break free across his proud face as a slight chuckle escaped.  He was being mocked!

“Aw hell!”

Hanzo’s composure broke and he tried to cover his face with his hand while he laughed, all while McCree’s embarrassment fumed and he stood up.

“I knew you wouldn’t help!  This was a waste of time!”

“No, no!  I didn’t say I wouldn’t help!  I –” he laughed a bit more, “I never suspected you would actually come to me!”

McCree raised a brow.  "What do ya mean?“

"Everyone has been talking about it – you really should watch what you tell Tracer.  I already knew what you wanted, I just never thought you would get enough rejections to ask me!”

“Fine, fine.  Laugh it up while ya can.  Now, are ya serious about helping me?”

Hanzo finally gathered himself and nodded, much to McCree’s relief.

“But tell me, why do you need me to be your fiance?  Wouldn’t going as friends be enough?”

McCree sighed heavily and took a seat next to Hanzo again only to regret it as soon as he looked down past his feet.

“Ya don’t understand, this man was someone very special to me.  He was runnin’ with my old crew until we…split ways.  T'see him gettin’ married off, knowin’ I’m still stuck where I was a decade ago makes me feel so…”

“Unworthy?”  Hanzo added.

“Somethin’ like that.  I doubt he and I will ever talk again after the weddin’, so if I can just pretend like my life hasn’t been so dull since he left, then maybe – I don’t know.  I can move on?”

Hanzo’s lips pressed together in thought as he nodded, acknowledging McCree’s feelings.

“Very well, I understand.  I will help you, but on one condition.”

“Anythin’.”

“No kissing.”

* * *

The night of the wedding quickly approached.  McCree and Hanzo have parked their car and are being driven up to the venue by the valet driver.  While Hanzo is looking impeccable in his tailored gray suit, McCree keeps fidgeting with his fingers while staring out the window ominously.

“You seem nervous.”  Hanzo comments.

“I am.  I’m nervous as all hell.  This was a bad idea.”

“Maybe, but you’re already here so there’s no point in worrying now.”

“There’s every point!  We could still escape.  Let’s just head back, yeah?”

McCree looks over to Hanzo who is looking unimpressed by his suggestion.  McCree sighs, rubs his face, and sits idly while they pull up to the venue.  Once they stop, the driver opens the door for them both.  After tipping the driver, they enter the space and are immediately harassed by bright lights, ringing bells, and the smell of cigarette smoke wafting through the air.

The wedding is taking place at a high-class casino and hotel.  The first floor is filled with slot machines and low-bet tables, while the second floor is where all the high-rollers go to gamble thousands of dollars.  Above that are two five star restaurants followed by fifteen floors of hotel rooms.  Finally, the rooftop features a picturesque garden space where the wedding ceremony is taking place at sunset, followed by the reception in the hall on the first floor.

Though McCree was fussing worse than a teenage boy in his first suit, as soon as he enters the casino he suddenly changes into the charming, handsome cowboy he’s oh-so-well known for.  He has loosened up the top buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his hairy chest, and has chosen his finest pair of cowboy boots and sleek Texan hat for the occasion.  Hanzo, on the other hand, wears his suit buttoned up, with polished silver cufflinks to complement the blue and gray colour theme, and his hair has been slicked back into his usual ponytail.  Together, they make a silent, but resounding entrance; instantly, a few eyes have turned towards them.  McCree makes sure to send a wink and a smile to a few fawning women, to which Hanzo rolls his eyes and nudges McCree in the ribs.

“Don’t forget, you are  _engaged_ to me.  It’s disrespectful to openly flirt when I am right here.”

“Aw, but what’s the fun in havin’ a well-behaved fiance?  If we’re gonna play pretend we can spice it up a little, can’t we?”

“Absolutely not.”

McCree clicks his tongue in annoyance and grabs Hanzo’s hand to kiss the back of it as if making a show of his affection.  Hanzo scoffs, pulls his hand away, and heads to the elevator while McCree follows.  It is to McCree’s discomfort the glass elevators are positioned outside the building, meaning as soon as they pass the fifth floor he is presented with a view of the surrounding Californian desert, the ground disappearing evermore as the elevator rises higher.

When the elevator opens, they are met with a perfectly paved pathway that leads further on into the garden, hidden by the heavy foliage that lines the walkway.  A few feet ahead, a tall and bulky bouncer awaits them with his hand extended outward.

“Gentlemen, your invites, please.”  

McCree is quick to produce the invite, noting the “and guest” at the end of his name to the bouncer who nods to them both politely before allowing them to pass him.  They continue along the walkway, making note of the blooming flowers and the other walkways that break off from their own to explore other areas of the garden.  When they reach the end, it opens up to a wide space where rows of neatly placed white chairs wait.  At the front, there is an archway of gold metal covered in soft, hanging fabric that is also seen hanging from a few trees along the pathway.  Hanzo is looking for two empty seats when loud, boisterous voices call to McCree and draw his attention.

“Jesse!  Buddy!  Come over here!”

A group of three are calling to him, all looking like they have seen better days and McCree smiles excitedly.  Hanzo follows behind him to the second row that is normally reserved for family, surprised to see McCree’s full name displayed in cursive on a white card on a seat, with a spot beside it for his guest.  

“I’ll be damned!  Hell must’ve gone an’ froze over for all of us to be together again!”

There are two women and a man standing to hug McCree and as they talk and laugh, the quiet of the garden is easily disturbed.  

“Where the hell have y'all been these days?”  McCree asks.

“Ah well, I’m living the domestic life, y'know.  Got myself three kids now and a lovin’ wife.”

“No kiddin’?  You went off and became a daddy, huh?”

“One of the best things I’ve done.”  The older man who only ever went by Laddy, about McCree’s age, pulls out pictures of his three sons on his phone, all looking like a spitting image of the man with their green eyes and fiery red hair.

“I just got outta jail!  Joined up with a new crew though, so I’ll probably be back in soon.”  Says one of the women going by Alanna, who was once young and spirited like a firecracker now bears obvious signs of age with the graying in her black hair and wrinkles in her face.  

“I’m still in jail!  Broke out for PJ’s wedding.” Says the other, smiling widely to show a couple of gold teeth to replace those she lost in fights.  Henrietta, a feisty German lass, was known for choosing hand-to-hand combat over gunfire and though she had aged just like all of them, she was still as muscular as ever.

“Who’s your plus one, Jesse?”  Henrietta asks, nodding to Hanzo behind him.  

McCree clears his throat, realizing he had been ignoring Hanzo this whole time and turns in his seat so his old crew can clearly see him.

“This is Hanzo Shimada, he’s my fiance.”  The words rolls off his tongue so easily Hanzo almost believed him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.  I’ve heard plenty of stories of you all.”

Hanzo shakes hands with those he can reach and waves to Henrietta at the end.

“Ohhhh, a  _fee-ahn-say_ huh?”  Alanna says with a tease and a whistle at the end.

“Did you two meet in Overwatch?  You’re still there, ain’t ya Jesse?”  Laddy asks.

“Actually yeah, to both.  Hanzo was there before I was.”

“Well, he seems like a good fit for ya.  I’m proud of ya, Jesse.”  Laddy claps a hand on McCree’s shoulder and he returns it with a respectful nod.

“In case you don’t know yet, I’ll warn you now.  That man is a beast in bed, so make sure you can hold your own before entering the ring if you know what I mean!”

McCree just about spits while laughing and Hanzo, along with a few other eavesdropping guests in the front row, give him a questioning and judging glare.  

“Oh trust me, he can hold his own a little too well!”  McCree responds and the two women are laughing loudly.

Hanzo just shakes his head and covers his face – McCree has bought into their facade a little too much.  Thankfully, a priest hurries down the aisle and instructs everyone to silence as the ceremony is about the begin.  McCree and his friends quiet down, turning in their seats appropriately to watch as the gentle music begins and two flower girls walk down the aisle, dropping pink rose petals onto the walkway and the underneath the arch.  Two bridesmaids and two groomsmen follow them in pairs; the groomsmen are wearing light gray suits with pink dress shirts and gold pocket squares, while the bridesmaids are wearing light pink dresses.  

Finally, PJ begins his walk down the aisle.  He is wearing a blinding white suit with a gold dress shirt underneath and a pink pocket square, opposite the grooms.  He looks like royalty and McCree can’t help but stare in awe; as he nears the front of the aisle, he looks to McCree and the gang behind him, smiling wide just like he used to.  McCree gasps quietly, overcome with warm admiration; but there’s something else mixed in there, something sour when he sees the large burn mark that has captured the right side of his face when he turns to look at them fully.  McCree averts his eyes.

When the music changes to an original string composition, the guests stand.  The bride, adorned in a gold, shimmering, strapless dress that hugs her tightly before flowing down from her hips, bears a simple bouquet of white roses; instead of a veil, she is wearing a diamond tiara, befitting a Queen who is to marry her King.  McCree notices there is no father figure next to her but doesn’t see the charm that hangs from her bouquet that holds her father’s photo.

When she reaches the front, the rest of the ceremony speeds along.  The priest reads out their vows, they say a simple prayer for those who could not be with them today and ask God for his guidance on their new journey together, and they end the blessing with a kiss.  The guests applaud their exit, and this time PJ’s near-black eyes are only on his bride, as they should be.

The guests head down to the hall on the first floor where they partake in an hour of free time, an open bar, and one of California’s best casinos.  It doesn’t take long for McCree and his old crew to pair off to one of the low-bet Blackjack tables, but Hanzo didn’t come here to be ignored all night.  He takes up a seat next to McCree, much to the old cowboy’s surprise.

“I didn’t know you gambled, Hanzo?”

“There’s much you don’t know about me.”

“Well, tonight just got much more excitin’.”

As it turns out, McCree heavily misunderstood Hanzo, because nearly five-hundred dollars later he has bet his last chip and Hanzo is partaking in a rich scotch while looking over the cards on the table in front of his large pile of chips.  He doubles McCree’s bet and the cowboy grits his teeth.

After their hour is up and McCree has been cleaned out of almost all spending money, he and Hanzo head to the reception hall that has been closed off to the public.  The decoration is nothing short of extravagant, and the plated dinner matches the bride’s refined taste.  There are hundreds of more guests present at the dinner, meaning only a select few were invited to the ceremony considering the small space, and a few of the guests had clearly hit the open bar hard.  During the dinner, some of the bridesmaids and groomsmen tell stories of the wedding couple, though none offered as much insight as what Jesse or Alanna could provide.

With dinner over and the wedding necessities done, the guests and wedding party were free to dance or gamble the night away.  Jesse was pretty stuck to his old crew since they hadn’t seen each other in so long, so Hanzo had resigned to hang around them for most of the night; however, when they’re loud personalities got to be too much, he would find a quieter couple to connect with.

To his own surprise, McCree was actually enjoying himself; he had been fretting over this night all week, but now that he was here with his friends, he found it easy to lose himself in their company.  Until…

“Hey guys!”

The sound of a deep, gentle voice had McCree’s hair standing on end.  

“PJ!  Managed to get away finally?” Alanna asked.

“Not that I want to.  Honest, my wife is something else.”

PJ looked back to his wife who was dancing with her bridesmaids and smiled wide.  

“But I had to come to see you guys.  I’m so glad you all made it!  And Jesse!”

McCree turned around wearing the biggest smile possible.  PJ clapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for an embrace.

“Oof!  Now hold on there, keep yourself together, will ya?”  Jesse mocked.  He patted PJ on the back until he was let go.

“Thank you for coming, Jesse.  I have to admit…I was worried you wouldn’t.”

McCree swallowed down his feelings of guilt.  "Aw hell, I wouldn’t miss this for the world, y'know.  Your wife is one lucky woman, you be sure to take good care of her.“

"I will.”  

For a split second, McCree and PJ stood staring at each other, a lifetime of memories flashing between them until Henrietta broke their moment.

“Your scar’s healed up real nice!  You almost don’t look like roadkill anymore!”

PJ rolled his eyes with a smile at the tease.  McCree forced himself to look away from the burn as the crew commented on it some more.  

“Ahem, Jesse, why don’t you introduce me to the groom?”

Hanzo’s voice caught everyone’s attention and the group made room for Hanzo as he stepped in, his hand extended out to PJ.

“Uh, yeah.  PJ, this is Hanzo Shimada.  He’s, um –”

“His fiance.  A pleasure to meet you.”

PJ’s face lit up and he happily shook Hanzo’s hand, looking back-and-forth between him and McCree excitedly.

“The pleasure’s all mine!  I can’t believe Jesse managed to wrangle himself such a good-looking man!”

Hanzo smiled earnestly and McCree rolled his eyes – all this complimenting was going to go straight to his head.

“I’d say I did most of the wrangling on my part.  He was not an easy catch.”  Hanzo commented and it fired up McCree’s competitive side.

“Hey now, if anyone did any wrangling it was me.  And you were easy.”

The group cackled at the bickering and though their coupling was all pretend, the arguing was not.

“I was  _easy_?  I have never made anything easy for you.  If you thought I was easy, it was merely because I pitied you and your poor attempts at flirting.”

“Honey, you wouldn’t know what flirting was if it hit you in the face.”

PJ whistled and put his hands up.  "Alright you two, time to simmer down.  Let’s all grab some drinks and hit the floor!“

To that, everyone agreed, grabbing two drinks from the bar before heading out into the casino like a pride of lions.

* * *

The night was full of drinking, gambling, boisterous laughter, and even a fight as Henrietta and Alanna wagered one could outlast the other in a classic brawl.  PJ was the one to break it up and as quick as the fight started, they were hanging off each other like old pals even quicker.  Hanzo wedged his way into the group and once they found how successful Hanzo was at gambling, everyone insisted Hanzo watch over their plays so he could instruct them.  With that taking up most of his time, he realized some time later that McCree had disappeared.  No one was able to recollect where he had gone or when, not even Hanzo, and he set out to find his lost fiance.  

He was nowhere on the casino floor, nowhere in the restaurants, not at the bar or in the reception hall.  Hanzo kept the valet ticket so he couldn’t have up and left (unless he decided to walk and Hanzo nearly left to go find him), so the only other spot was the rooftop garden.

When Hanzo stepped out into the garden, it was peacefully quiet.  His heart seemed to calm with the peace and it was then he realized how much chaos he had been subjected to tonight.  He slowly walked through the garden, taking every path until he finally found McCree; he was standing in the very same corner the ceremony took place, leaning over the rail to stare out into the dark desert.  Hanzo took a spot beside him, letting the pair exist in their silence until McCree was ready to talk.

"Hanzo.  Thanks for comin’ out with me tonight.  It occurred to me I never said that.”  

“You are welcome.  I am glad I came out, it has been fun meeting your old friends.  It is like seeing a glimpse of your past.”

McCree sighed, looking down into his near-empty drink.

“Yeah.  I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

Hanzo frowned at the comment.

“Everyone seems happy to see you.  Whatever you did in your past, clearly you have been forgiven for it.”

“It’s not that simple.  I ruined someone’s life.”

“Whose?  Henrietta’s?”

“No.  I…I ruined PJ’s.  He was the love of my life and I ruined everything.”

Hanzo raised a brow, but allowed McCree to continue at his own pace.

“We…we were doing a smugglin’ run.  Some asshole had bought this little girl off some underground traffickin’ thing and hired us to bring her to him, only we didn’t know it was a little girl.  We thought we were deliverin’ some vehicles.  We were told to show up to the impound lot, drive out with the selected cars he had already paid off, and deliver them to an address.  We found her one night when she was tryin’ to bust out of the trunk.  Obviously, we weren’t gonna deliver her, so we decided to smuggle her back to her family in Mexico.  Once the buyer caught on, he and the human traffickers were after us.”

“We found ourselves in a good ‘ol car chase just miles from the border.  The little girl turned out to be just as proficient with a firearm as any of us – how she learned that I will never know – and no matter how many times we told her to keep down she would always pop up to fire a couple shots at the assholes.  She woulda fit in real good with us.  Anyway…to make a long story short, I tried knocking one of the sonuvabitchs off the road, but instead his tire blew and he crashed right into PJ’s car.  His gasline had been leakin’, too, and metal-on-metal creates some real intense sparks, so…PJ’s car went” – McCree made an explosion gesture with his free hand – “and when he crawled out of the wreckage, his whole right side was on fire.”

“Jesse…that was not your fault.”

“If I had been more careful, he wouldn’t have suffered so badly!”

“But he’s alive, and doing all he can to enjoy his life.  You saw him today, he is so happy.”

“Hanzo, I – I loved the man.  To see someone you love suffer like that…I can’t even bear to look at him.”

Silence falls upon them.  McCree is drowning in guilt and Hanzo knows there isn’t anything he can do but toss him a line and hopes he grabs on.  

“Did you ask PJ how he met his wife?”

McCree shakes his head solemnly.

“He met her on the burn unit.  She was his doctor.  He said he had never met a woman who was so fiercely dedicated.  'She didn’t just stand around looking pretty’, he said.  'If shit went down, she was right there in the middle of it, ready to lead the rest of the team.  She didn’t mess around with people’s lives.’”

McCree stayed silent, but Hanzo could tell he was listening.

“He said she inspired him to keep going.  The treatment was hard, but when he came out of it he went straight to the jewelers and bought a ring he felt befitted a queen like her, then he marched right into the hospital and proposed to her on the spot.”

McCree laughed.  "He would do that, the suck.“

"I was expecting him to say she refused, but she actually accepted.  They have been engaged ever since.”

“That was a decade ago.  Why did it take so long for them to get married?”

“He wanted to make sure every one of his gang could make it, including you.”

McCree was dumbstruck.  He scoffed, he smiled, then rubbed his mouth slightly before stopping over it; his eyes were watery as he stared out into the desert, lost in the fact his old lover had purposely held off his wedding to make sure he and his friends could attend.  Hanzo was sympathetic and let the information sink in, watching as McCree slowly processed and re-processed it over and over.

“If you ask me, I think PJ still loves you.  You two might not be together ever again, but knowing he still cares for you means something, doesn’t it?”

Finally, McCree looked over to Hanzo and for the first time since meeting him at Overwatch, Hanzo could see his true self showing through his chocolate brown eyes.  Hanzo was in awe of his newfound appreciation for the rugged cowboy.

“Thank you.  For everything tonight.”

Hanzo smiled, then lifted from the railing to face McCree fully.

“And thank you for a lovely evening.”  He gently and purposefully took McCree’s robotic hand, bending over to kiss the back of it.  McCree chuckled but didn’t pull away.

“Now, shall we head back and join your friends?”

“Oh, they’re _our_  friends now, honeysuckle.  You’ve officially been inducted into the group.”

“Wonderful,”  Hanzo said mockingly as they walked together, “I cannot wait to see what this entails,  _darling_.”


End file.
